Prince Charming or Whatever
by Ferowyn
Summary: Allowing himself to fall for Thorin Oakenshield is one of the most stupid things Bilbo Baggins has ever done.


I wrote this for SherlockedinErebor ( www . fanfiction u / 2 364250/)

I know it is not what you prompted and that writer's block is still giving me a hard time. This fill definitely did not work out like I planned it to, but I don't really have any better ideas at the moment, not for Thilbo. I hope you like it anyway and if I ever think of some better Bagginshield, I'll write it for you!

I know that the style is rather inconsistent, but that's Thorin's fault, not mine – he never did what I wanted him to do -.-'

**Prince Charming or Whatever**

Bilbo Baggins almost hates himself for his poor self-control.

It is the main reason for all the heart ache he come to suffer, since it makes everything only ever worse and harder and so much more complicated. If he did not know better than doing what he always does, then he could at least blame something or somebody else, but like it is – he knows only too well that his misery is his own fault. Or at least most of it. Well, no, not really. _All _of it is his own fault, because he had been fully aware of what he had been doing all the time. After all, he could have stopped staring into Thorin Oakenshield's too blue eyes when the prince had been looking at that map longingly, clearly excited (a rare display of emotions). He could have stopped listening too closely to that voice when the dark prince had been talking, mocking him, there, in the hall of his own house. He could have stopped provoking the occasional (and of course completely unintentional) brush of calloused fingers against his skin, like when handing him a bowl of stew, the only food he had had left after his pantry had been raided. He could have –_ should _have – forbidden himself to think that this dwarf… this dwarf was someone he could fall for. Someone he might really and seriously fall for. Someone he would actually _like_ to fall for. Everything had been lost then. In that second, when he had – consciously – allowed the slight attraction to grow into something else, something that had turned out to be so much more over the following weeks, he had settled his own heart ache.

It is always said that the mind cannot mess with matters of the heart, and that you cannot choose whom to fall for. Bilbo knows better. He knows that he could have avoided falling for Thorin Oakenshield and all the heart ache that came with it.

It had happened before and one could think that Bilbo knew better at this point, but obviously he does not. Or maybe he does, but still is stupid enough not to listen to his own advice. It does not speak in favour of his wit, which had been praised quite a few times during that blasted quest for the Throne under the Mountain, but he could never and still cannot help it. The hobbit thinks about all those lads and lasses in the Shire he had allowed himself to fall for before meeting the dwarves. It had actually worked out sometimes and he had been in a few happy, if not lasting, relationships. However, most of his crushes had ended with heart ache, and with nights spent crying and cursing himself and thinking he would never be happy again. But, as people say, time can cure everything, and it certainly did in Bilbo's case… closing wounds, only in order to let him tear open new ones. Oh, how much pain could he have saved himself!

Bilbo knows all too well how lucky you are if you fall for someone who shares your affection. The world is big and there are so many others your beloved could be interested in. Thus the odds are that you end up pining for someone you cannot have, but cannot forget either. The hobbit had made this experience a little too often. All other Shirelings had been married at the age he had left his home for an idiotic quest for a mountain housing a dragon, but he had not had found anyone to spend the rest of his life with. Falling for Thorin had been… no surprise. And, of course, it had also been stupid and causing a lot of heart ache and taking his sleep for many lonely nights, knowing that the prince would never reciprocate his feelings. But if there is one thing Bilbo is a master at, it is chasing after girls and boys whom he could never have and he had acquired even more experience using that not particularly helpful talent when pining over Thorin Oakenshield.

Did he already mention his poor self-control? Because that is what makes being lovesick unnecessarily harder for him. That he just_ cannot keep away_. He remembers only too well doing all those things that he should have known would hurt him in the end. His eyes had always looked for Thorin (actually they still are doing that), finding the prince whenever they could. And then they had lingered, way too long (they are still doing that as well, but that is beside the point). He had wanted to be as close to the royal dwarf and to spend as much time with him as possible, and he had never been able to stay away whenever he had had the opportunity to give in to his heart's cravings. Even if _being with Thorin_ had meant _watching Thorin talk to others and being ignored_. Even if _being with Thorin_ had made him feel much more miserable afterwards than he had felt before. Actually it had ended that way most times – the prince not even acknowledging his simple presence and Bilbo being left feeling sad and empty.

And still he had not been able to keep away.

Of course his friends had told him all of their tricks how to win over a girl (though they had never talked about to-be-kings) and that you had to make yourself scarce in order to be interesting. Bilbo knows that it is probably true, at least partly, but that would never be strong enough to do so. And he risks jarring on his (current) beloved's nerves again and again, just because he is unable to stay away, no matter how often he promises himself never to make that stupid mistake yet again.

Sighing he thinks about another promise to himself he has broken over and over, the last time when starting to chase after the dark, mysterious dwarf prince.

Many of his crushes had had the same talent as Thorin Oakenshield, although none of them to the same extent as the heir to the Throne under the Mountain: The ability to make him feel stupid and weak and completely and utterly unimportant in any given situation. No matter what Bilbo had said or done, no matter how good he would have felt about his words before saying them, the prince's answer had left him believing that he actually was worth nothing. He had promised himself never to give himself up for someone who could not appreciate him, who could not see him as a worthy and precious person, yet he had done so when falling for the prince. By now this has gotten much better, but Thorin still knows how to make him feel like some insect not even worth to be smashed by a dwarven boot.

Actually Bilbo is quite confident about who he is and what he does, but Thorin is able to make him forget all his reasons and all his pride and let his life and decisions seem hopelessly stupid and inexplicable.

The hobbit gnashes his teeth, thinking about returning to the prince's side again and again, with the knowledge that his feelings were unrequited and that he would be reduced to a helpless, self-doubting nothing by the end of the day. He had done it anyway. _Maybe_, he thinks, _maybe this is not being weak. Maybe this is that masochistic and self-destructive part of me. That part my mother was always worried about._ No matter how hard he tries to suppress them, those thoughts keep returning and bothering him. Probably because they are – at least partly – true. He is a little masochistic and self-destructive, the latter more than the first. It is not that he _likes _being in pain. However, he sometimes does things that he knows are going to hurt. No longer_ just because_, that has stopped, but he remembers. He remembers those times he had spent sitting on his own fingers until they were bluish-white and throbbing due to the lack of blood. And he remembers that he would watch the liquid return to the limbs and the patches of skin that had been in direct contact with the hard wood of the chair or with his thighs turn to a deep red, fascinated. It had been during his tweenage years and thinking about it now actually makes him feel a little freaked out. Hurting oneself without having any reason – that must be sick. However, while _without having any reason_ is no longer an issue he has never overcome the_ hurting himself _part. And although he has never cut his arms – the thought of making knives (or scissors or razor blades) break through his skin on purpose leaves him feeling faintly nauseous – his fingernails have dug into his flesh a little too often, whenever he has felt tears pool in his eyes and known that he just _could not cry _now. It had turned out to be rather successful, only Manwë knew why, and Bilbo had never been able to get rid of that bad habit. It is not worst, though. The scratches are worst.

Soft white patches of scarred skin are the last evidence of all the countless times he had let his nails run over his arms, fast and hard, back and forth. They had not drawn blood, but left the skin raw and open and the scrapes would heal by forming a scab that vanished quickly. Those scratches had been easy to hide and had appeared on his arms whenever he had been lovesick. Until this day he does not really know why he had done it.

Bilbo is a well-read hobbit, he has lost himself in many fictional worlds and he has seen quite a few characters cut their own wrists. Some wanted to kill themselves and the hobbit is pretty sure that he is not suicidal. Of course he has thought about it – who has not? – but he knows that he is way too cowardly for that and that he could never do it. Furthermore, there is this thing called survival instinct and, besides, no matter how much he may be complaining, he likes life far too much to give it up. He sighs and thinks about lines like _Physical pain… this is me trying to drown the emotional hurt _and _This is the only way I can feel these days_ and_ I need to see my blood running in order to know that I am still alive_ and he knows that all those very tragic reasons are not his. Bilbo thinks that maybe he wants to show himself how much unrequited love really hurts by leaving visible marks, to prove to himself that his heart was really broken, but somehow that sounds stupid even in his own thoughts. He probably rather wants to show _others_ how hurt he is, still he had always kept the scratches hidden. But he had had this strange dream about loving someone _really _much and ending up scratching his whole arm raw and the other person finding out and feeling so guilty that they actually acknowledged their emotions and that Bilbo and his beloved would live happily ever after… Stupid, really.

Bilbo still cannot believe that it somehow worked with Thorin Oakenshield.

"What are you thinking about?"

Bilbo buries his face deeper in the wild black thatch. "The fact that I probably have quite a few mental problems," he mutters, barely more than a whisper.

"Is that new?" The King's smirk is clearly audible.

The hobbit almost sticks his tongue out, but he thinks about what had happened the last time his tongue had unintentionally (honestly!) brushed against Thorin's neck and he is still feeling way too sore to repeat that just now, so he keeps himself from letting his childish reflexes free. Maybe his self-control is not so bad at all. He grins against his consort's skin and cuddles into him, humming contently. He is a hobbit and hobbits value comfortable homes very highly, almost as highly as a good meal. And while Erebor may not be Bag End the Kingdom under the Mountain can provide both, along with a warm body and strong arms slung around his much smaller form.

Thorin chuckles softly and his grip tightens, before he suddenly grows silent and pensive, as Bilbo can tell by the fingers running absent-mindedly through his curls. He just enjoys the togetherness – you do not get many quiet evenings if you are married to the King under the Mountain – and waits for his beloved to voice his thoughts. He has to wait rather long, and Thorin's words are slowly and carefully spoken when he finally says them: "What did you mean when you were talking about mental problems?"

Bilbo curses inwardly. Well, he should not be surprised that his consort had heard the truth in his words, no matter how casually he had muttered them. "I was just thinking about… _before_," he whispers and feels the King tense.

"It was my fault," Thorin says and his voice is unfamiliarly constrained. "And I am so sorry for letting you suffer when I could have made you happy."

The hobbit sighs. He feels guilty for bringing the topic up. "When are you finally going to forgive yourself for something that was _not _your fault?" he asks, softly. "You were not the one who scratched my skin." _You were not the one who was… odd._

Thorin knows what he is thinking, despite him not saying the words. They have grown very close over the last few months, the months since retaking Erebor. "I don't mind if what you did was not exactly normal," he murmurs. "I'll just make sure that you'll never have any reason to do it again."

Bilbo cannot suppress the huge smile that is lighting up his face. "I know you will," he answers, lifting his head and staring into those beautiful blue eyes he is finally officially allowed to look at as long as he wants. He sees the love in his consort's icy orbs and thinks his heart is going to burst. "I have not forgotten your promise."

He thinks about flames being reflected in those eyes he had fallen for so easily and about the shock that had seemed to be burning high. He remembers calloused fingers run over the caked scrapes on his arms ever so lightly and the guilt that had been so clearly displayed on the prince's face. He recalls the repeated whispers of "I am so sorry" and not being able to look at Thorin, filled with shame.

_"It's not your fault," he murmurs and Thorin shakes his head, his jaw set._

_"Yes, it is." A hand is grabbing his own, fingers squeezing a little too hard. He does not mind._

_Thorin's other fist is clenched and he lets his eyes trail over the healing scratches yet again. The fingers of Bilbo's free hand twitch and he finally gives in, hiding the scarred skin beneath the sleeves of his coat. The prince's gaze darkens even more._

_"How could I not-"_

_Squirming uneasily Bilbo interrupts him. "It. Was. Not. Your. Fault. This was me behaving… oddly, not you doing anything wrong."_

_The raven-haired dwarf forces a said smile. "But I did. I watched you so closely, but I never saw… and I treated you like you were one of those bloody elves, not the one person my heart craves most." He is more honest than ever, which is probably due to the fact that the rest of the company has retreated to the other side of the clearing, leaving them alone – even Ori, the one who had found the scrapes and understood the reasons for them in the first place. And who had told their leader straight away. "I just… I didn't want you, or anyone else, to find out. I could have saved you so much pain…"_

_"Both of us," Bilbo corrects, daring to let the tips of his fingers brush against the rough skin of Thorin's cheek. "You could have saved both of us a lot of pain. I was not the only one suffering. And I could have done the same. None of this is only your fault."_

_Thorin shakes his head, now smiling honestly. "You are an extraordinary and adorable person, Bilbo Baggins."_

_The younger one smiles as well. "As are you, Thorin Oakenshield… King under the Mountain."_

_"Not yet." Now it is Thorin's turn to shift. "If… if we retake Erebor… will you stay with me?"_

_"I will follow you wherever you may go. I promise." Bilbo has had been in love quite a few times in his life, but never had his heart been taken that much._

_Suddenly his second hand is taken as well, and Thorin rises, only to sink to one knee. "I swear to you, Bilbo Baggins, by my honour and my life – never will I give you any reason to hurt yourself ever again"_

"And I have not forgotten yours," Thorin murmurs, his lips inching closer to his consort's and. "And I must say you have kept it very well. Almost as well as I intend on keeping yours."

Bilbo huffs and pulls his head back.

The King chuckles lowly, his chest rumbling, and his strong arms pull his hobbit back close without any effort.

Bilbo snorts again. "You are some prince charming," he mutters, turning his head as the older one moves to capture his lips with his own.

"I am the King," Thorin corrects him, brows raised.

The hobbit rolls his eyes. "King charming then," he grins and finally lets the older one kiss him.

"Whatever." Again the dwarf's chest is rumbling with amusement.


End file.
